Sight Unseen
by cupcaked
Summary: Uchiha Sasuke doesn’t believe in them, but that doesn’t matter. When you possess the Sharingan, the ghosts believe in you.


**A/N:** My first Naruto piece. Sasuke-centric, because I love the angst and he's a great character. Constructive criticism is welcome.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters within this story.

--

"Do you think ghosts exist, Nii-san?"

Itachi relaxes his grip on the kunai, and he, knowing that he has commanded his brother's attention, stares up at him with wide eyes full of emotion. Admiration, fear, love and envy that borders on hate: these are the emotions he has come to associate with his brother.

He sighs. "What have your friends been telling you, Sasuke?"

"Nothing. I'm just asking."

He releases his grip on the kunai, allowing it to fall and stick straight up from the ground, its dark metal glittering between blades of grass inches away from Sasuke's feet.

He doesn't flinch.

Itachi drops down to his knees and faces him at eye level, eyes searching his own. Itachi is his most favourite person in the world because he can do everything their father can (and more), yet looks at him with a kindness that rivals that of their mother.

"I don't believe in ghosts," he says quietly, and for some reason, he feels a tiny shiver, "but our bloodline allows us to _see_. We can see the chakra of everything from humans to objects. We can see what our opponent will do before he even knows what that is. We can see things that don't exist, Sasuke."

He still doesn't flinch.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Sasuke?"

Sasuke doesn't answer, and the air around them is so still that he can hear the sound of his and Itachi's breaths. He inhales slowly, silently, wishing he hadn't asked in the first place because amidst all that admiration and love and envy, there's something in him that makes him fear his brother so much the bile rises up his throat and his palm itches for a kunai or anything that'll offer him superficial hopes of protecting himself.

Almost as though he knows, the eyes of his brother flash from deep black to a vivid red, its black swirls terrifying.

Sasuke flinches.

--

He tries not to cry after _that_ day, because crying means tears and snot and loud, heaving sobs. Crying to him is lying in bed with the tears streaming down his face, shoulders shaking but not making a sound.

Not one sound, because below his mattress and the wooden floor that holds up his bedroom is the room where the blood of his parents still stain the floors. Their bodies are long gone; buried under the earth several miles from here, along with everyone else, but he's afraid that what _remains_ will hear him.

He knows if he accidentally lets out a sob, _they_ would find him. Who 'they' are doesn't matter: the ghosts of his parents, the ghosts of his relatives or the ghost of Itachi.

He still doesn't believe in them, but that doesn't matter. When you posses the Sharingan, the ghosts believe in you.

--

The Sharingan frightens Sasuke as much as it scares his opponents.

It was automatic, a reflex while fighting Haku, and he can't even remember what happened back there coherently. Back at Konoha, he riles up Naruto enough to get him to meet at the training ground at dusk the day after their return. He wants to really see what it's like to use the Sharingan.

Naruto glows an ethereal blue, and that's his chakra.

"Let's go," he whispers, and he can see a wavering figure with Naruto's face and hair and eyes throw shurikens at him straight on. The shurikens, glowing a light purple, head for different body parts: his head, his left leg, his torso.

A second later, Naruto reaches into his back pocket, throwing shurikens at him and Sasuke calmly fends them off automatically with a kunai in hand while his heart pounds violently in his chest.

They fall to the floor, landing before his feet harmlessly, and he unintentionally drops the kunai. His palms are clammy and slick with sweat.

"What is wrong with you?" asks Naruto, annoyed, as Sasuke stares back at him wordlessly with the same terrifying eyes he once saw in his brother.

--

Sasuke sleeps with his Sharingan turned on, because he wants to be prepared when he sees the ghosts.

It's not _if_ he sees them, but when.

In his life, there are is hardly anything he knows for sure. All he knows is that there will be daylight and nightfall, that he has to kill his brother, and that they will find him.

--

They find him on a Tuesday night.

They are not like the ones he lived with in the Uchiha compound, infiltrating his mind and clouding his memories. These ghosts are solid, powerful and very, very real.

They are freaks; they are messed up individuals with inhuman powers.

When they asked him, there really wasn't any other answer than 'yes'. Not because he wants to go, but because they are familiar. They feel right in the worst way possible because they remind him of himself – desperate, desperate, desperate.

Before he leaves, he thinks about Team Seven and the effects of his absence to both them and the village. Maybe, if he gives it enough thought, he might actually miss them. Not the village, but the team. Naruto, even. And if he thinks hard enough, he might actually find it in himself to say no, to gain his revenge from purely his own powers rather than the help of Orochimaru.

For these reasons, he doesn't allow himself much thought on that subject, because his thoughts are only allowed to dwell on Itachi and the clan and revenge.

In the end, he leaves, because above everything, the ghosts believe in him.

--

"Why do you waste your chakra by sleeping with your Sharingan activated?"

Orochimaru himself, not Kabuto, is leaning by the doorway to his room, and Sasuke resists the urge to ignore his question and feign sleep.

"It's my body, my prerogative."

A hint of a smile touches Orochimaru's lips, and he licks them. "Yes, but not for long."

He leaves just as quietly as he appeared, and Sasuke ignores the chill and reminds himself this is the life he has chosen.

Still, he doesn't sleep for the rest of the nights at Orochimaru's hideout. It's as if he's twelve again, just watching, waiting for the ghosts to make their move.

--

Everyone talks about it, even Orochimaru.

They speak of Naruto's unwavering spirit of bringing him back, no matter the cost. Kabuto laughs it off, and Orochimaru sounds almost impressed.

Sasuke never acknowledges it when he hears them talking, nor does he speak when they ask him about it.

He knows it is impossible.

There is no one: no Kage, no ninja so skilled, no determination strong enough to bring back a ghost to the land of the living.

--

Naruto stands before him, his eyes larger than he's ever seen. He's seen him a couple of times over the months, but this is the first time he's _really_ seeing Naruto since their fight at the Valley of the End.

He's just as tall as him now, and that god-awful orange jumper of his is less florescent and a little more polished now. The biggest difference are his eyes, though.

Sasuke almost squints, because maybe the Mangekyou is worse for his eyesight than he thought. Naruto's eyes have lost that lightheartedness that he was so famous for, and it has been replaced with something…darker. Not evil, but deeper. Older.

It's like he finally knows what it is like to lose something he holds so dear. A deeper pain looms deep inside the blue, as if he knows what it's like to have everything by his side only to lose it all.

Naruto's eyes now reflect his own.

In front of Konoha's gates, Naruto tries to speak but stutters instead, and he allows his thoughts to fade away.

Sasuke smirks.

"…You look like you've seen a ghost, Naruto."

**END**


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